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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916483">What Is Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_On_My_Own/pseuds/Living_On_My_Own'>Living_On_My_Own</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cheating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:33:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916483</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_On_My_Own/pseuds/Living_On_My_Own</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought he really needed to do the worst things in order to make the one he loved happy, even if he was the one getting hurt in the end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Is Right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>3rd person's POV:</p><p>
  <em>The world is so lonely these days, without them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know I did the right thing.</em>
</p><p>Freddie's hands wandered everywhere on the body of the bigger man. Their lips were sealed together, sharing a lustful kiss. He was laying on top of the other man, on the giant bed of his bedroom. It didn't feel right at all, but it was what was needed to be done.</p><p>
  <em>The days seem longer and harder now.</em>
</p><p>The man under removed the belt from the singer. He began sliding off the jeans of the smaller man. Their legs tangled, it would have been so comforting in an other situation, but now, it was worse than anything. The Persian removed the T-shirt from the man he barely knew, his hands shook.</p><p>
  <em>But it needed to be done, he seems so much happier.</em>
</p><p>Nausea got through him when his hand touched the chest of the bigger man. Bad shivers ran through his spine when hands were laid on his waist. He tried to distract himself from the fact he felt his skin crawl, he felt disgusting in his own body, he felt disgusted of himself.</p><p>
  <em>I can't look at myself anymore, I want to punch my mirror when I go in front of it.</em>
</p><p>Sweat broke off on his forehead. He wanted to cry, to slap himself, telling himself he was stupid, that he didn't need to do that. But he couldn't stop, he had to do it. He couldn't let this go on. He felt like he couldn't breathe.</p><p>
  <em>I remember too well the look on their faces, when they were told what I did, the disbelief and disgust, I'll never see them again.</em>
</p><p>Their skin hit against each other. The slapping sound got louder as the bigger man trusted harder. His moans got louder, but the singer couldn't bring himself to make any sound. He didn't enjoy it, why would he?</p><p>
  <em>I guessed it would happen. I feel disgusting.</em>
</p><p>The broader man asked if he was okay, why wasn’t he enjoying it? What was wrong? But the pianist told the stranger to keep going, that he was fine, that he didn’t need to stop. So he didn’t.</p><p>
  <em>I didn’t deserve it, any of what he gave me. I wasn’t doing him any good.</em>
</p><p>The front door opened. Freddie knee who it was. He told the guy to keep going, that it was fine, only a roommate, nothing more. The tightening of his heart got worse. He wanted to stop, to go in the arms of his boyfriend and let himself be loved. But it would never feel right, his thoughts would always be louder than anything.</p><p>
  <em>There's been no one here for so long. I don't go out anymore. It's much nicer to get drunk in here instead of in the middle of a crowd telling me I lost the best thing I could ever have.</em>
</p><p>His heart beat louder when the door of the bedroom opened, revealing the blonde man. The man under the Persian covered them both with the blankets, his eyes were wide, and he looked at Freddie, asking with his eyes what was going on. But the musician didn’t say anything.</p><p>
  <em>They are right too.</em>
</p><p>The yelling started. The singer shut his eyes off as the stranger got dressed and left as quickly as possible. He didn’t open his eyes when the man he loved shouted at the top of his lungs, getting out of his mouth any words that could hurt. But the older listened, not saying anything, not looking, not breathing. He listened when the front door shut, he didn’t say anything when the house fell silent, he didn’t look when a cat knocked over some object, he didn’t breathe when the pain in his head got unbearable.</p><p>
  <em>But I can’t listen to anyone anymore.</em>
</p><p>It took a while for him to fall asleep, weeks. When he went to the studio for the first after what happened, he expected the worst, and he got the worst. Roger has told them, about what he did, about how much of a selfish asshole he was. Brian has yelled, Roger stayed silent, John threw unkind words.</p><p>
  <em>I am broken and nobody but him will ever be able to fix me. But he’ll never come back.</em>
</p><p>They said it was over. That he had ruined everything. As always, he had finished in his head. He stopped looking at them as soon as he saw their faces. He couldn’t handle it. When he came back home, it was still silent, the only thing he would hear from now on.</p><p>
  <em>When I think about it enough, I want to die.</em>
</p><p>4 months later</p><p>Roger's POV:</p><p>I knocked on the door of the house that was filled with memories. I felt sick, thinking about what happened the last time I came here. Anybody could answer, that mystery guy I had kicked out that dreadful night? Freddie? Someone else?</p><p>But when it opened, it was Freddie. I don't know what was worse. He looked at me with wide eyes. He didn't look like himself at all. His jaw line was and chin were covered in slightly curly and short hair. His hair had grown a bit, the usually shorter curls now framed his face. He wore a slightly big T-shirt that used to fit him perfectly. His eyes were bloodshot and dark circles sit under them. He looked more than a mess.</p><p>"Hi. I wanted to take my things." I said dryly.</p><p>I couldn't let myself be soft, he had hurt me. He didn't deserve my sympathy.</p><p>He nodded quickly, now staring at his feet. He let me enter and immediately sat on the couch, avoiding any eye contact we could have. I looked at his right hand, he still wore it. I stood in front of him, holding my hand out, he finally looked at me. I looked at the jewel on his finger and he opened his mouth to say something, but I didn't let him.</p><p>"I paid for it, it's mine." I slightly snapped.</p><p>He stared at me for a few seconds and eventually removed the diamond ring from his finger with trembling hands. The promise ring I had given him. I looked away when I noticed the tears in his eyes. He didn't deserve my sympathy.</p><p>I put the ring in my pocket and went upstairs in the bedroom. The house was quite a mess. There were things laying around. None of my things had moved from where they were when I left. Like no one had lived here for months.</p><p>I grabbed the rest of my clothes and put it in one of my bags. I picked up from the desk my notebook, the one with all my lyrics. There was an other notebook, less big, and I couldn't remember if it was mine or not, so I opened it, and it wasn't what I expected.</p><p>
  <em>The world is so lonely these days, without them. I know I did the right thing. The days seem longer and harder now. But it needed to be done, he seems so much happier. I can't look at myself anymore, I want to punch my mirror when I go in front of it. I remember too well the look on their faces, when they were told what I did, the disbelief and disgust, I'll never see them again. I guessed it would happen. I feel disgusting. I didn't deserve it, any of what he gave me. I wasn't any good to him. There's been no one here for so long. I don't go out anymore. It's much nicer to get drunk in here instead of in the middle of a crowd telling me I lost the best thing I could ever have. They are right too. But I can't listen to anyone anymore. I am broken and nobody but him will ever be able to fix me. But he'll never come back. When I think about it enough, I want to die.</em>
</p><p>There were months of pain put down in words in a so little notebook. I read all of it, sitting down in the undone bed. I knew I didn't have the right, that it was bad, that it was private. But I couldn't stop. I waited all this time for a call, a sign he wanted me to come back. I figured out he was glad I was gone, I could have never guessed he was as hurt as me, if not more.</p><p>I rubbed my eyes and sighed heavily, it made everything so much more complicated. I called his name, wanting him to come and at least explain.</p><p>Freddie's POV:</p><p>Roger called my name. I didn't want to see his face, for him to say anything to make everything worse. My hand felt naked. He took the last thing that could ever comfort me. Not that he didn't have the right. I deserved it.</p><p>I walked upstairs, surely not expecting to see him standing with my diary in his hands, looking confused.</p><p>"What the fuck is going on Freddie?" He asked.</p><p>I looked away. I couldn't look at him without wanting to cry. I couldn't handle the anger in his eyes, the disappointment, the disgust. I couldn't handle the fact I never saw pain.</p><p>"I'm sorry. " I choked out.</p><p>"That's not what I asked." He answered.</p><p>I sat on the bed, facing him. I couldn't say it. I couldn't explain. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't do it.</p><p>"I think I deserve to know why. Because I never had any clue that you could something so stupid, and then it happened." He explained.</p><p>I took a deep breath.</p><p>"Your dad-" I started but was quickly interrupted.</p><p>"My dad is the reason why you cheated?" He said with a sarcastic laugh.</p><p>"Can you let me explain please? That's not what I said. J-just let me explain. "</p><p>I put my head in my hands. It was so much harder than I ever thought it would be. I had never prepared to ever tell him. I didn't want to tell him.</p><p>"You remember the time I met your parents for the first time?" I asked.</p><p>He nodded, his arms crossed over his chest and a slight frown showing up on his face.</p><p>"I-it didn't go as well as you thought it did." I whispered.</p><p>The memory made me shiver.</p><p>_____</p><p>
  <em>"Freddie, can I talk to you for a moment?" Roger's dad asked me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I nodded and shyly joined him in the back yard. I wondered what he could want to tell me. It seemed like he didn't hate me. It couldn't be that bad.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I don't like this." He said.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"D-don't like what?" I asked quietly, I knew what.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You. With my son. He was happier before you know. I think he deserves better than someone like you."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone like me. What did it even mean? I couldn't say anything, because I couldn't breathe and I couldn't let any words out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"He doesn't love you Freddie. He told me he just accepted to be with you because he didn't to make you sad, he'll never love you. I don't think you deserve him either. He met other people before you, they were much better I tell you. You two won't last, he'll get tired soon enough. You're not enough to please him. And I'm just being kind, because I know him. You're not the type of person he likes or he is happy with. You're too selfish, too needy, too much of a kid. He likes people that can take care of themselves, that don't need to be babied like you do." The older man explained.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Selfish. Needy. A kid. Can't take care of himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A nuisance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I nodded and joined Roger. We said our goodbyes and Roger's father acted kind. We went in the car and Roger looked at me for a few seconds.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Are you okay? You look pale." He asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Needy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm okay."</em>
</p><p>_____</p><p>"He told I didn't deserve you, that you used to be so much happier. That you deserved better than me." I said quietly, because it still hurt, so much.</p><p>I didn't tell him about what hurt the most. About what made me feel sicker each time I thought about it.</p><p>
  <em>He doesn't love you, he will never love you.</em>
</p><p>"My father would never do that." Roger exclaimed with a surprised expression on his face.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Roger."</p><p>He shook his head, disappointment written all over his face. He put his hand in his hair for a few seconds before looking at me again. His eyes were so intense it made me shiver.</p><p>"So what does it have do to with you cheating? What was it? A revenge because of what he said to you? It hurt me so fucking much Freddie!" His voice got louder and I hated it.</p><p>"I didn't think it would hurt you. " I whispered.</p><p>He looked at me with disbelief.</p><p>"It's not because I was so fucking angry at you that I wasn't hurt. Because I love you! You did this when I loved you so much!"</p><p>
  <em>He doesn't love you, he will never love you.</em>
</p><p>I folded my hands on my lap. I could feel tears pricking my eyes, but I didn't have the right to cry. I wasn't the victim, I was the one being stupid, the one ruining everything, the one being disgusting.</p><p>"So, why did you cheat on me?" He growled.</p><p>"Because I don't deserve you!" I yelled.</p><p>His eyes widened and he tried to say something, but he didn't.</p><p>"I don't deserve you and you deserve so much better than someone like me."</p><p>"Why do you believe him? Why?" He asked with eyes I couldn't understand.</p><p>"Why wouldn't I believe him? He's right." I sniffled.</p><p>"And I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle that. I wanted you to leave me, to be happier, to get someone you deserve. I wanted you to get out of my life so you could finally be happy and have someone that is worth all the love you give them. Because I'll never be that someone." I rambled.</p><p>"T-that's not tr-" he tried saying.</p><p>"He told me you didn't love me. That you never will. That you were with me because of pity. " I explained.</p><p>I didn't listen when he tried telling me otherwise. He was lying. Why would he love me? How could he ever love me?</p><p>"He told me you couldn't love me because I was everything that couldn't make you happy. That I was selfish, needy, childish, that I couldn't take care of myself."</p><p>I could remember each of his words perfectly. They had marked my soul forever, had made me feel more miserable than any word that had been ever thrown at me in my whole life. And one time was enough to make me believe them.</p><p>"Freddie, no. He was wrong. So so wrong. I love you. And you're not needy or selfish, or whatever. He just wanted you to believe him and leave me because of that."</p><p>"Well it worked out pretty fucking well." I laughed while sniffling and wiping my tears away.</p><p>Roger sat on his knees in front of me and took my hands. He put a strand of hair getting in my face behind my ear. He kissed both of my hands delicately and I felt like crying even more than before.</p><p>"You're a mess, baby." He whispered soothingly.</p><p>"I know, right?" I giggled with tears still falling.</p><p>I took his hand in mine. The warmth made me feel better, happier. He caressed my cheek with his thumb, like he does when I cry, except this time there were no tears. Only smiles, on both of our faces, one more shy than the other.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Roggie." I whispered, closing my eyes in shame.</p><p>"You're already forgiven baby. I love you, this doesn’t change anything. I was angry, but I’m not anymore.” He explained.</p><p>He sat on the bed near me and put me on his lap. Neither of us hesitated to kiss the other. I had missed this so much, the feeling of his lips on mine, his hand tangled in my hair, the other on my waist.</p><p>“I love you. I love you so much.” I whispered, pulling away from his lips to hold him tight.</p><p>“I love you too.” He whispered he in my ear.</p><p>I could finally breathe properly.</p>
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